“That’s none of your business,” she snapped.
“It is now.” His hands gripped her hips as he pressed her against his hard body. “No more.”
Stunned by his unexpected flare of anger, she watched in fascination as a curl of smoke escape his nostril.
“Excuse me?” she at last demanded.
Tiny flames danced in his sapphire eyes. “I don’t like the thought of you with other males.”
“Why not?” she demanded. “It’s not as if you’ve ever actually cared about me or my feelings.”
Without warning his hand slipped beneath her sweater, touching the tattoo on her back.
“You carry my mark,” he husked.
The air was jerked from her lungs at the feel of his fingers pressed against her bare flesh. The mating tattoo tingled, the searing heat of his touch sending tiny jolts of excitement crackling over her skin.
Oh, yes.
This was it.
This sizzling desire was why she hadn’t been able to banish him from her thoughts since their betrothal. And why she trembled whenever he was near.
“Because you were forced to give it to me,” she said in husky tones.
She sensed his anger easing as he stroked his hand up her spine, inching her sweater upward.
“Ah, Rya.” He bent his head downward, wrapping her in the power of his dragon.
Inside, her own beast stirred. Her fey blood might sparkle through her veins, but deep in her soul, she was still a dragon.
His lips brushed her forehead. “I’ve been a fool.”
“True,” she agreed, although she wasn’t sure what exactly he was referring to.
He’d been a fool about so many things.
He nuzzled a path to her temple. “It’s going to be different from now on.”
Rya shivered, shocked by the need blasting through her.
Dear goddess, she wanted him.
She wanted to arch against his hard muscles. To feel his lips exploring her bare skin from head to toe. She wanted to drown in the flames of his desire as she pleaded for him to ease the ache that was becoming unbearable.
It was the sheer intensity of her craving that had her jerking away from his roaming hands.
Nervously tucking her hair behind her ear, she turned to pace toward the well-worn leather chair set near the fireplace.
Torque might tell her that he regretted treating her like an unwanted burden, but she’d been an idiot to forget that she was still nothing more than a duty as far as he was concerned.
The thought of exposing her most raw, vulnerable emotions was…unnerving.
“So, this is your lair,” she inanely muttered.
She could feel his heat beating against her back before he was leashing his dragon and moving to stand at her side.
“An illusion of it,” he said, his voice deliberately light.
She breathed a sigh of relief. He had to sense that her withdrawal from him was nothing more than a fragile pretense. He could easily vanquish her resistance. But instead of pressing his advantage, he allowed her a graceful retreat.
The knowledge chipped away a little more of her lingering resentment.
“It’s very…” She faltered as she struggled to come up with the proper word.
“Yes?”
“Stark.”
He arched a brow, casting a glance around the barren room.
“It’s functional,” he corrected. “I have my books and a small gym where I can work out in private if I want.” He waved a hand toward the door at the back of the room. “I also have a sleeping chamber. What more do I need?”
She studied his lean, compelling features. He was serious. Unlike most dragons, he wasn’t motivated by avarice, or the lust for power.
Instead he honored things like loyalty and integrity.
“There’s nothing on the walls.” Her gaze skimmed around the room before lowering to her feet. “Or the floors. It’s just plain stone.”
He shrugged. “I don’t spend a lot of time here.”
“Why not?”
“I’m usually on guard duty,” he paused, as if having to consider what he did with his time. “Or I’m training.”
“Or visiting the harem?” The words left her lips before she could halt them.
“Ah.” A slow, satisfied smile curved his lips. “I’m not the only one troubled by the thought of sharing.”
She tilted her chin. She’d have her tongue cut out before she would admit she was jealous. “As you said, we’re betrothed.”
“Hmm. So we are.” His gaze swept downward, taking a slow, disturbingly thorough survey of her body. “And soon to be mated.”
A treacherous thrill of awareness curled through the pit of her stomach. Yeesh. He wasn’t even touching her and she was aroused.
Time for another distraction.
“What then?” she asked.
His gaze snapped back to her face. “I don’t understand.”
“After we’re mated do you intend to stay with Baine?” she asked. “Or will you join my father’s guard?”
“I assumed that Synge would send us in search of his lost treasure.” He shrugged, as if he hadn’t given the question much thought. And in truth, he probably hadn’t.
It was obvious that he had done his best to block out their future together.
The fluttery awareness remained. He was a gorgeous, impossibly sexy male. That didn’t mean, however, she wasn’t tempted to give his dangly male bits a good, hard kick.
“If my father knew where to send us, we’d already be there,” she pointed out between clenched teeth.
“Your mother hasn’t had any other visions?”
“Not that she’s shared.”
“Good.” Seemingly indifferent to the edge in her voice, he smiled with satisfaction. “Then we’ll stay with Baine. Or if you prefer, we can find a lair of our own and wait for Synge to decide where he wants us to search.”
Rya had assumed Torque would choose to continue their current arrangement until Synge or her mother discovered some clue that would send them on their mysterious quest.
She hadn’t even considered the possibility that they would…play house. “A lair? Together?”
He arched a brow at the squeak in her voice. “Mated pairs usually share a living space, don’t they?”
She nervously cleared her throat. “I suppose.”
He stepped toward her. “Does the thought trouble you?”
Did it? Yeah. But not for the reason he was imagining.
It wasn’t that she was repulsed. Just the opposite. Without even trying, she was capable of picturing a small, cozy lair, complete with Torque comfortably settled next to her. As if a part of her had already been fantasizing about the day she would be living with her consort.
Realizing he was waiting for her response, she gave a shrug.
“A little,” she admitted.
Something flashed through his eyes. Something that Rya might have thought was pain if it wasn’t so ridiculous.
“Why?” he demanded.
“We’re still strangers,” she said, not willing to share the truth behind her unease.
He moved with a shocking speed, wrapping her in his arms as he studied her with a fierce expression.
“We’re not strangers,” he growled, something in his voice warning her that she’d touched a nerve. “Not anymore.”
“Torque,” she breathed, shocked when he buried his face in the curve of her neck.
“You know who I am,” he muttered, his lips branding fiery kisses over the pulse that pounded at the base of her throat.
She shivered, her lashes fluttering downward as liquid heat flowed through her body.
She’d been trying so hard to ignore the aching desire that pulsed between them. As if she could make it go away by pretending it didn’t exist.
Now she struggled to breathe as his lips branded her skin, his dragon-fire dancing between them.
“I suppose I know that you like t
o read,” she husked, her heart missing a beat as he sank his teeth into the soft flesh of her shoulder. Not deep enough to draw blood, but enough to leave his mark. “And work out,” she forced herself to continue, a groan wrenched from her throat as his hands slid beneath her sweater to cup her breasts. “And that you have a thing for duty,” she finished with a hiss of pleasure.
“I have a thing for more than just duty.” His lips moved to nuzzle the corner of her mouth, his thumbs strumming over the hardening peaks of her nipples.
Bliss streaked from her breasts to the empty ache between her legs. She instinctively pressed her hips forward, seeking the hard pressure of his thickening cock.
“What’s that?” she asked in a breathy whisper.
“This.” He kissed her with a blazing urgency. His arms tightened around her, one hand tangling in her hair. Rya leaned against him, a molten desire making her feel boneless. Her lips parted, inviting the thrust of his tongue. “This,” he murmured, giving her one last lingering kiss before his lips were sweeping over her flushed cheeks and along the line of her jaw. “And this.”
He lifted her sweater to expose her breasts, his eyes smoldering with a fevered need.
“Torque,” she said on a soft exhale, her hands grabbing his shoulders as his head lowered.
“Rya.” He licked a pebbled nipple, chuckling as she gave a gasp of stunned pleasure.
“And do not forget Levet,” a lightly accented voice called from the outer room as the sound of a door being slammed shut echoed through the air. “Did you miss me?”
“Shit.” Torque jerked his head up, a furious cloud of smoke swirling around him. “I’m going to kill that stunted gargoyle.”
CHAPTER NINE
Torque released his hold to allow Rya to hastily arrange her clothing. At the same time, he silently considered the easiest means to rid the world of the miniature, first-rate, champion of all pains in the ass, Levet.
Unfortunately, he didn’t actually know how to kill a gargoyle. Not even a teeny tiny one.
He’d heard they were one of the few creatures impervious to dragon-fire. And that human weapons couldn’t hurt them.
There was a chance he might be able to wait for the aggravating pest to turn to stone and chisel him into a pile of rubble, but that wasn’t going to ease his immediate frustration.
Not nearly as upset as she should be, Rya moved to stand in the center of the floor as the gargoyle waddled into the room.
“Levet,” she murmured.
“Ah, ma belle.” With a flap of his ridiculous wings the demon hurried forward, reaching up to grasp Rya’s fingers. “I knew you would be clever enough to find the opening I left for you.”
Rya smiled even as Torque stalked forward to tug her hand away from Levet’s grip.
It wasn’t that he was jealous of the undersized creature. Of course not. That would be silly. But he didn’t want any male touching his female.
Especially not one who’d just rudely intruded at the worst possible moment.
Dammit. Rya had finally been warm and willing in his arms. And his bedchamber had been so close.
Then…bam. He’d been cock-blocked by a talking lump of stone.
“I don’t know about clever,” Rya murmured, not even glancing in his direction. Had he suddenly become invisible? “We’d barely entered the portal when we were trapped in a frozen cell.”
“Ah.” Levet wrinkled his tiny snout. “We endured the same unfortunate fate.”
Torque scowled with sudden suspicion. “If you were trapped then how did you get to this lair?”
The gargoyle flapped his wings. “I am not entirely certain. One moment I was enjoying a peaceful nap, and the next…” He gave a dramatic wave of his hands. “Poof.” Another wave. “I was standing outside the door.”
Torque wrapped a protective arm around Rya’s shoulders. “Convenient.”
Levet gave a decisive shake of his head. “Non, it is not convenient at all. If I was to be poofed somewhere, I would have preferred a lovely villa on the Seine. Or even my new home. I do have a very successful business that demands my attention, after all.”
Rya leaned forward. “You have your own business?”
“Oui. A matchmaking business. If you are interested in a love connection I can—”
“Instead you were brought here,” Torque sharply interrupted, a startling fury clenching his gut.
How dare the miniature demon offer his woman a love connection?
Rya belonged to him.
End of story.
Levet frowned, easily sensing the danger that prickled in the air.
“Why are you staring at me?” The gargoyle narrowed his gray eyes. “You are not a crawly, are you?”
Torque blinked. “Crawly?”
Rya cleared her throat. “I think he means creeper.”
“Oui, a creeper.” Levet pointed a claw in Torque’s direction. “I do not entirely trust you, mon ami.”
Torque leaned forward, his power sizzling through the air. “If anyone is suspicious in this room, it’s you.”
“Moi?” The gossamer wings fluttered, shimmering in the muted light. “That is absurd.”
“Is it?” Torque countered. “You were the one who left open the portal so we could enter and become trapped in a frozen, impenetrable maze. Then just when we were rescued from the icy cell to be brought to this place, you suddenly appear.”
“Fah.” Levet’s tail curled around his clawed feet. “If I wished to hurt you, I would not need to lure you to this bizarre nightmare. And I would certainly not be here myself.” He gave a violent shudder. “I detest the cold.”
Okay. There was a small part of Torque that admitted it was unlikely the gargoyle was involved.
For one thing, the creature didn’t have the power to create the elaborate trap. For another, he was utterly committed to Tayla. He would never do anything that would cause her distress.
And killing one of Baine’s most trusted servants would certainly upset the tenderhearted imp.
Still, he wasn’t in the mood to give anyone the benefit of the doubt.
“Just know that I’m keeping my eye on you,” he warned.
Levet gave a tsk, tsk, tsk sound with his tongue. “Dragons.”
“Where is Finn?” Rya abruptly asked, no doubt hoping to ease the tension.
Instead, the reminder of the overly-pretty frost sprite made Torque release a low growl.
He didn’t know what was wrong with him.
He’d never been one of those selfish males who was always fretting and fuming that someone might steal something from his hoard. Of course, he’d never really had anything he’d considered of value, he silently conceded.
Not until now.
Thankfully unaware of his rare sense of uncertainty, the gargoyle remained focused on Rya.
“I was forced to shift, but I sensed him leaving the cell,” he admitted with a grimace. “I cannot say if he escaped or was taken by our captors.”
Indifferent to what had happened to the frosty prince, Torque asked the most obvious question. “I don’t suppose you have any clue who our captors might be?”
Levet slowly turned to face him, his arms folding across his narrow chest. “I suspect they are Sylvermyst.”
Torque lifted his brows in confusion. Not surprising. The Sylvermyst had disappeared from the world centuries ago. It took a minute to recall that he’d heard a vague rumor about the creatures returning to this world after the defeat of their evil master.
“Why would you suspect the dark fey?” he demanded. “They have no talent for creating or manipulating ice.”
Levet gave a small sniff. “I recognized their scent. I assume they must be working for another demon.” He curled his tiny snout in disgust. “The dark fey have few morals about selling their services.”
Torque gave a frustrated shake of his head. “Dragons, and now Sylvermyst. This makes no sense.”
“Dragons?” Levet instantly perked up, his tai
l twisting in excitement, like a dog offered a special treat. “Where?”
Rya broke the bad news. “She’s already disappeared. Thankfully she created this place to keep us safe before she left.”
Levet glanced around, his gaze lingering on the barren walls before he turned his attention to Torque. “These are your rooms, are they not?”
“How do you know that?” Torque demanded. As far as he knew the tiny demon had never been near his private quarters.
“Who else would reside in a dragon’s lair, where he could have any luxury that he desired, and choose to live like a monk?”
Torque scowled, watching as Rya struggled to hide her smile.
His rooms weren’t that bad. Were they?
He allowed his gaze to skim the stone walls and the bare floor before taking in the black couch and chair.
Well, maybe they were a little…stark. But he was a warrior, not a froufrou designer. What did they expect?
“I don’t live like a monk,” he muttered.
“Perhaps not,” Levet murmured. “The Holy Brothers tend to have more fun.”
Torque released a hiss of outrage. “You are a—”
Rya hastily stepped between them, speaking to Levet. “Does your magic work?”
The gargoyle shrugged, pretending he didn’t notice the furious dragon half-breed who was glaring at him with murder in his eyes.
“I fear not.” His wings drooped. “I attempted to create a portal when we were first captured. There is a dampening spell that is interfering.”
“A dampening spell.” Rya gave a slow nod. “That would explain why I couldn’t use my shadow. Do you think it’s Sylvermyst magic?”
“Non. I would guess that it is the spell of an ancient dragon.” Levet shot a glance toward Torque. “No doubt your female is responsible.”
Torque curled his fingers into tight fists. He was going to kill the gargoyle. It was that simple.
“She’s not my female,” he snapped. “I’ve never seen the dragon before today.”
“Hmm.” The gargoyle allowed a suggestive smile to touch his lips. “She created your lair.”
Rya made a strangled sound of warning. “Levet.”
Perhaps realizing the danger of poking at an enraged dragon, the gargoyle heaved a small sigh. “Fine.” Levet sent him a challenging frown. “Did you ask the dragon how we can leave this place?”
Dragons of Eternity Collection Page 27
